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I ate a Cadbury Egg last night.  I stayed within my calorie limits, but still.  See, I’m PMSing, and I was whining about how I wanted chocolate, specifically a Snickers.  Matt, trying to be sweet, handed me one of his Cadbury Eggs he had left over from Easter.  I hemmed and hawed over it, turning the little chocolate and caramel confection around in my hand for several minutes.  I knew I wanted the chocolate, I knew before I would have eaten it without a second thought, but something just didn’t feel right.  I was playing with the wrapping, leaning more towards not eating the thing at this point, when Matt took it from me and unwrapped it to look for the nutritional information.  He handed it back to me, all unwrapped and milk chocolaty brown, and my resolve broke.  I ate it.  Very slowly.  Much more slowly than I normally would have.  And you know what?  Even from that first bite, it was in no way satisfying.  In fact, the more I ate, the worse I felt.  It was eye opening.

I’ve always been the type of person to eat my feelings.  If I was upset, I’d eat chocolate or comfort food.  If I was happy, I’d celebrate by eating.  If I did something I was proud of, I would reward myself with food.  I don’t know if it ever really made me feel better, but I still did it any way.  I think I needed last night, it was a real turn around for me.  For the first time, I went with what was natural for me, I went to ease myself with food, but instead of feeling better, I felt worse.